Not My Prince Charming
by Ari the Amazing
Summary: Taken from her family in exchange for her brothers freedom, Ahlena has lived the last year aboard the Supremacy as servant to Kylo Ren. Sinking deeper into her state of despair, she reflects on her childhood dreams of being swept away by her prince charming and the circumstances of her service. Might continue. Kylo Ren/OC Ben Solo/OC. M for implied non/con.


Not My Prince Charming

This is not the relationship I had wanted growing up. When I was very small I wanted to be swept off to a fairytale palace by my prince charming. To be his princess and partner. To be taken care of and to take care of him. Growing up, I had to push most of those dreams to the background. Real life is hard, messy, and sometimes it's just plain miserable. Even through that I still thought I would have some type of deeper feelings for my partner. I mean sure, he's attractive enough, and he's strong enough to protect me if I needed it. In fact, I've seen him all but murder someone who looked at me a little to long once. But on days like today, when I was missing home and family, and all I really wanted was to be held and made to feel special, my heart longed for those childhood dreams of true love.

I knew my place. I was here because he wanted me here. I was here because my being here protected my family. My brother. The First Order had come to my home a year ago, taking children to be brainwashed and raised as storm troopers. I was twenty four at the time and safe, but my baby brother was only two. I could still feel the panic in my bones remembering watching our mother shielding his tiny body with her own. I was helplessly struggling in the arms of the storm trooper who had restrained me from rushing to their aide. My breathing was ragged in my throat as I screeched for mother to run and hide, for these awful people to leave them alone, to _take me instead_. A man stepped forward out of the crowd. He wore a mask and was clad from head to toe in black. I stopped struggling, his presence alone seemed to freeze the very blood in my veins. He reached out a large gloved hand to grasp my chin so tightly it hurt… a lot.

"Do you mean what you say?" he asked. I found myself looking for signs of life in the dark lenses of his mask. There was nothing. His fingers squeezed tighter. "Answer me," he commanded in a tone that didn't leave any room for argument. "If I leave your family in peace, would you take his place?" I couldn't speak clearly through his grip, so I forced myself to nod once. Without releasing my face, he turned his head and issued a clipped command. "Leave these and return to the ship. We have enough for now." At once, every single one of the what felt like hundreds of soldiers turned on their heel and retreated back the way they had come, including the one that had held me. His hand finally dropped from my face, only to fasten again on my wrist, and began to pull me away from my family. That was enough to unfreeze me.

"Wait! I need to say goodbye!" I all but sobbed. I hadn't realized that my eyes had filled with tears until they were spilling down my face as I pulled at his grip on my arm. "Please, stop! Mamma!" I was fully crying now, my shoes were sliding through the dirt, finding little purchase on the smooth stone underneath. I wasn't sure if it was my tone because it sure didn't feel like my pulling was doing anything, but he stopped, turned to look at me for a moment, and then nodded and let go. I didn't pause to ask questions. I was across the yard in a heartbeat, throwing myself into my mother's arms. We sunk to the ground and she rocked both of us in her arms. She told me she loved me, loved us, over and over, and I drank as much in as I could. The smell of her hair, her clothes, the smoothness my baby brothers soft skin against my cheek. I kissed both of their foreheads lightly, our tears mixing together on cheeks and clothes as we cried together over this final parting. I felt an almost gentle pressure on my shoulder.

"It's time to go." His voice was very low, even with the mechanical filter of his mask. I looked up at him again, this time I thought I saw the flicker of something behind his eyes. I nodded and looked back at my mother.

"Be strong, Ahlena. I love you so much." She touched one more gentle kiss to my forehead, before I stood and faced my new future.

"I need to know for sure. If I go with you, you promise no harm will come to my family?" He looked me directly in the face, saying nothing for a moment. Before I knew what was happening, he had reached up and pulled the dark mask from his face. I caught my breath, my body reacting instinctively. He had a long narrow face, unnaturally pale with large dark eyes that seemed too expressive for someone who had shown a penchant for such brutality. His night black hair fell in thick waves, framing his face and probably making him look more pale than he actually was by comparison. Both his nose and mouth looked wide in his narrow face and his nose looked as though it had been broken at least once. He looked dangerous, but not angry. His eyes studied my face as I studied his. In a strange way, looking into his eyes, I felt pulled towards him. He blinked and the pull faded suddenly, and as though he had made a decision he nodded decisively.

"You have my word," he intoned solemnly. His voice was still very deep, even without the distortion of the mask. His hand reached towards me, and I felt my mother's hand close around mine from behind me. I looked back at her one last time, squeezed her gently and released it, reaching out to take this new stranger's hand instead. As he led me away I didn't look back, because I knew I wouldn't have the strength to keep moving if I did.

I was so lost in my own past, I didn't hear my door slide open. "What are you doing?" My head shot up, hastily wiping the tear tracks from my cheeks. The rule was I had to stand when he entered the room, but this time, I didn't care. He could punish me if he wanted to. I settled back into my curled position in the chair by the window, and turned my face away from him. I couldn't explain it, but I suddenly needed him to be furious with me. I needed him to give me a reason to fight back, before I gave up entirely. I would lose spectacularly, of course, but what did that matter? I've already lost.

I felt myself sinking back into the dark, cold place he had startled me out of. My mother's face the last time I saw her swam in front of my eyes as they filled with tears again. I just wanted to crawl into bed, but couldn't find the strength to cross the room. I felt more than heard him cross the room towards me. He reached for my face, and I flinched before he even made contact. He was never gentle with me. He would come and take what he wanted and then he would leave, but he had also made sure that he didn't break me completely. Personally, I think he kind of likes it when I fight back. Not too much, but enough for him to know I was still in here. This time though, he wiped the tears away, and I was shocked to feel the skin of his bare hand against my cheek. I could feel him probing my mind, looking into my thoughts and seeing the images behind my eyes. It was something that he did often, and I didn't fight it. If he wanted my pain he could have it. I released everything I had been bottling up, all of the sadness and pain and loss of the last year. My eyes and nose streamed as my breath came in rasping bubbles and sobs.

Without warning, he gathered me into his arms like a rag doll, and carried me the few pases across the room to my bed. Setting me down on the edge he removed my shoes and soft dress I usually wore around the ship, and slid my warm night dress over my head. He pulled the sheets back and allowed me to curl myself into a ball under them. He stood over me, removed his own clothes, folded them neatly on the chair I had just vacated, and slid into bed next to me. He pulled me to his chest, and I buried myself in his warmth. We stayed that way for a long time, me shaking and gasping to reclaim my senses, him with his cheek pressed to the top of my head. When I had finally pulled myself together after what felt like hours, I thought he had fallen asleep.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into my hair. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

No. Kylo Ren is not the prince of my childhood fantasies. But Ben Solo is, and sometimes, he wins.

**A/N - I HAVEN'T FINISHED A STORY IN LITERALLY YEARS! I know this is a little ooc and depressing, but I honestly love how it turned out and I would be super interested in revisiting this in an actual story at some point. I want it to be more romance than h/c, but I think especially for a character like Ben, it really needs to be **_**SLOW**_ **burn. Please review if you want to see more. Thanks!**


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